Logan Mitchell and The Most Gorgeous Guy Alive
by Idothisfortheladies
Summary: Logan meets Kendall while shadowing his dad at the hospital and they hit it off. He later learns that Kendall goes to his school and is in need of tutoring, which Logan is happy to help with.
1. like, really

**A/N:**

**I have a fucking outline for this.**

**This shall be completed.**

Logan has been running after his dad for the past four hours, ever since school let out at three, and he's starting to feel the effects of it. All the breaks he's been given have been cut short by something of dire importance, like broken arms and small kids that shoved Legos and other small toes up their noses. It's a typical day at the hospital, a dad like all the others, but Logan can't seem to keep his eyes open, even as he works to calm some of the more high strung mothers down.

"It's ok, I promise." He soothes one distraught woman, hands reaching awkwardly to pat a shoulder here and a grip a hand there, though she quickly backs away so she can continue to wring her hands. Her son, a four year old with dark hair and gray eyes, is currently suffering from a stomach ache caused by some sort of virus and, for all intents and purposes, appears otherwise perfectly healthy. He giggles at some of the nurses and babbles about bears and how much he likes going to the zoo.

"He's going to die, I just know it!" The woman wails, much to the disapproval of the nurses, and Logan goes back into his carefully thought out and carefully recited explanation as to just why this is not, in fact, true. The main reason being that the son, whose name is Grant or something like it, seems to be getting better already. He apparently threw up a few times and ran a fever, which prompted the woman to drag him to the hospital, convinced he was going to get dehydrated and die.

"I want to see a doctor!" The woman complains and Logan winces, shoving a hand in the pocket of his borrowed scrubs. He fumbles for the cell phone he was allowed to get a year ago, in case of an emergency, and steps out into the hallway to call his dad and get him to come deal with the woman. Despite Logan's official dress and mostly official attitude, he just can't pass for a doctor yet. The nurses like to tease him about it, claiming he's got the face of a ten year old, which isn't all together untrue. Logan does look a little young for his age, with big brown eyes and a pale face that, sometimes, appears rounder than he would like. Not that he dwells on it or anything, since he rarely has the notion to look into a mirror for any longer than necessary.

The phone rings and rings and rings until, with a swear, Logan presses the end button and leans against the wall. One of the nurses pokes her head out into the hallway and asks him, with a knowing look in her eye, if he would like her to page or contact his dad in a different way. It seems the nurses know, more than Logan himself, that call phones aren't the best way to get a doctor's attention. Logan sighs and agrees to the plan, thanking her and excusing himself from re-entering the room, making up excuses but really just too tired to deal with it. He can feel his late night study session, which he needed for a test he'd taken in history that day, coming back to him and it isn't pretty. He can feel his eyes drooping as the hustle and bustle of the hospital goes on around him, the sound of scrubs swishing and footsteps running or jogging or walking at a faster pace making up the brunt of the noise. It's all so familiar to him, because he's been listening to it for most of his life. Ever since he was old enough to understand life, death, and the careful balance between the two.

Sleep has always been tricky to come by for Logan, especially since his mom passed away, so it's almost laughable how easy it comes now. He must be snoring, because his dad is laughing when he finally shakes Logan awake, and Logan manages to be discomposed for a fraction of a second before he remembers where he is and just what he's been caught doing. He isn't ashamed, but he is a little embarrassed, though his dad is quick to reassure him that it's happened to the best of them all.

"Yeah, well." Logan leans his head against the wall as his dad smiles and folds his arms. He looks a lot like Logan, though his eyes are blue. A clear blue that Logan has always been secretly envious of, though he would never give up the brown eyes he inherited from his mom.

"Nurse says we have a hysterical mother?"

Logan rubs his eyes and yawns, nodding in the direction of the door. His dad chuckles and reaches for the handle, quirking a brow at his son's state. It's clear he's worried about Logan, though it's also clear he understands there's no need to be. If there's a problem, he trusts Logan to tell him and Logan, with all the love and respect he has for his dad, knows that this trust is completely logical.

"What's she been saying?"

"Now she says she wants to see 'a doctor', so you." Logan answers slowly, still sleepy from his very short nap, "Before she was saying her son is going to die, even though we've all been giving her plenty of reasons why he's not."

"This is the kid with the stomach bug, right?"

"Right."

"Figures." Logan's dad, shaking his head, puts on his game face and winks at Logan one last time before pushing the door open and stepping inside. Logan can hear him as he quickly reassures the woman, probably before she had a chance to argue, that her son is going to be "just fine." Logan can remember hearing those words loads of times before, mostly in this kind of situation. Hysterical mothers are the worst and they get far too many of them in the hospital, since it's located in a small town and the injuries never rise above a certain level of fatality.

The voices inside the hospital room are muted and it's hard to make out what's happening, but Logan figures the woman is being reassured and placated while her son is given prescriptions for lots of rest and relaxation. He knows, when the kid gets home, he'll be coddled and caressed by his obviously overbearing mother until he can't stand it any longer and decides being sick is no fun. But, at least then the woman won't be the hospital's problem any longer. It will be fantastic to see the back of her.

The woman must be angry again, because her voice rises and Logan can feel the heat all the way out in the hallway. He wonders what his dad, or one of the nurses, said and moves closer to the door, propping himself against the wall and listening for any other sounds to reach him. Nothing else seems to be happening, though, because the woman's voice drops off again and the same muted mumbling resumes.

Despite his best attempts to remain awake via eavesdropping, Logan can feel that same heaviness clawing at him and dragging him back into the blissful world of sleep. He would like nothing more to be in bed, curled under his blankets and possibly reviewing all his answers to the test (which turned out to be way easier than he'd expected), with his dad home in time to tell him goodnight (he might wait up for him). Since he can't have everything, he settles for letting his eyes slide closed as he thinks about the test and what he said and how confident he is that he aced it. There was one question that was a bit tricky, but after a lot of thinking, he thinks he might have gotten it right due to a bit of extra reading he did on the subject.

"Logan?"

Logan's eyes fly open as, once again, he's caught sleeping. The nurse who woke him smiles fondly and reaches out a hand, ruffling his hair in a familiar way. He doesn't object to the motion, mostly because he's still too tired to care.

"Yeah?" He mutters, not exactly grumpily, but with enough attitude to make the nurse smile at his "teenage antics." She shakes her head and lets her hand move from his hair to his face, where she cups her cheek and grins at him.

"When did you get so grown up?"

The question is pretty irrelevant, but it's nice that people care. Logan grins back and shrugs, mumbling something about growth patterns in teens and how she should know that by now.

"Humor just like your dad's, "She feigns disapproval, but quickly turns serious, "Who wants me to tell to you that you're needed in room 2A."

"What's in 2A?" Logan perks up, suspicious of just what might be waiting for him. He guesses another child and another hysterical mother, since that's all he ever gets, really. He's not complaining, a chance to work in a hospital is something any sixteen year old, aspiring doctor would kill for, but he does really want to see something besides the usual.

"A guy about your age who has some pretty serious bruises and maybe a broken nose."

"Woah, what happened?" The exhaustion leaches from Logan's bones at the thought of something new.

"He was jumped on his way home. Apparently he was leaving that diner a few blocks away and some guys got him."

"Nothing serious, right?" Logan feels nerves building in his stomach at the thought of something new, because he's not really a doctor, and he really doesn't feel like making a mistake and making things complicated. He's sure, if nothing else, his dad would stick him back on the easy jobs for the rest of his high school career. He doesn't want to be stuck on the easy jobs; he's better than the easy jobs.

"It's your job to figure that out." The nurse winks and disappears back into the room, leaving Logan to walk to 2A alone. Part of his is grateful that he'll have the time to think, but another part is freaking out and really needs someone to distract him. Or, better yet, double check everything he says and does.

Needless to say, Logan spends several minutes hanging around the outside of the room before he actually slips inside and, when he does slip inside, he almost slips right back out, because sitting on the hospital bed is the most gorgeous guy he's ever seen. Even with a possibly broken nose and a bloody lip he looks perfect, like all that Logan would want to be if he honestly cared how he looked. He's frowning, well grimacing, but it doesn't make him any less attractive. Logan has to admit, he would look attractive no matter what face he was making.

"Aren't you a little old to be playing doctor?"

Logan shakes his head fiercely at the guy's cheeky, but not malicious, words and tries to calm down. He smiles as best he can and holds out a hand, noting the callouses on the guy's hands and wondering if he maybe plays sports or something of the sort. He doesn't ask, though, because he can barely manage to breathe properly with how close he's gotten to the guy.

"I'm a student."

"A med school student?"

"Not exactly."

"I'm Kendall."

"Logan."

"Dr. Logan?" Kendall teases and Logan feels his face heat up at just how sexy he finds the name when it's coming from Kendall's mouth. It's all he can do to laugh (shakily) and press a finger to Kendall's swollen nose, which causes Kendall to yell and jerk back.

"Not a doctor yet." Logan winces at Kendall's expression and closes his eyes, "Sorry about that, but I don't think it's broken."

"Thank god." Even with Kendall's nasally voice Logan can detect the sarcasm.

"However, you might have a concussion." Logan grabs a small flashlight from the pocket of his scrubs and shines the light in Kendall's eyes, relieved to find that Kendall passes the simple tests easily, almost indifferently. It strengthens Logan's suspicion that Kendall plays sports, because sports players are always desensitized to concussions and concussion checkers, especially if their sport involves a lot of collisions. He can't imagine Kendall playing football, but he also really doesn't know Kendall and his sports preferences all that well.

"So, what happened?" The silence bugs Logan enough to get him talking again as Kendall lifts his shirt to reveal a lot of harsh bruises and a distractingly good figure.

"I was walking home from the diner, my mom works there, and these three guys jumped out of the alley. I tried to fight them, but they were huge, and they didn't give me a chance."

"Did they take your money?"

"I didn't have any on me, so no." Kendall seems oddly pleased by this face, his smirk taking Logan back to his previous consideration that Kendall would look good wearing any expression. Thus far, it appears to be very true.

"I guess that's good." Logan allows Kendall to pull his shirt back down and steps back, giving the other teen (and himself) some space. Kendall isn't at all fazed by the repeated reddening of Logan's face throughout the procedure, which Logan is grateful for. He doesn't really want to admit any feelings of attraction towards this guy, especially considering he's new to being attracted to anyone. There have been girls that he thought were kind of pretty, but he's never really been invested in anything. He's too focused on school and the hospital.

"I think it is." Kendall responds, "Though, I'm trying to see the positive side to all this."

"Always a good thing."

"Yeah. So, what about you? Why are you playing doctor when you're clearly not a college student."

"Uh, my dad." Logan fiddles with the flashlight, clicking it on and off, "He's a doctor here and he lets me shadow him. I want to be a doctor when I'm older."

"That's cool." Kendall sounds genuine and Logan smiles, feeling his heart race.

"I guess. Lots of people want to be, though."

"Still, not many get to play doctor." Kendall smiles brightly, "Positive side, remember?"

"Yeah, that's true." Logan agrees and frowns as the flashlight fails to turn on again, "I think I broke it." He laments the loss of his tool and Kendall laughs, holding out a hand and closing it around the flashlight. He shakes it for a second and clicks it on again, the light faint and growing dimmer by the second.

"Just out of batteries."

"I'll have to ask my dad for some more."

"Catch." Kendall tosses the flashlight and Logan, in a random display of actual coordination, manages to catch it. He stuffs it back into his pocket and smiles crookedly at Kendall's praise, noting how comfortable it is being around the teen. There's nothing obnoxious or conceited about him, he's just there to talk to and have a good time with.

"So, your mom works at the diner?"

"Yeah, she's a waitress. She should be getting here soon, since they told me they had to call her. She doesn't really keep her phone on when she works, but she'll be getting off soon."

"Will she be worried?"

"She'll be pissed. I'll have to keep her from hunting those guys down." Kendall slips off the bed and heads into the bathroom, leaving the door open as he leans over the sink and inspects his nose in the mirror, "Pretty, isn't it?"

"I've seen worse." Logan answers with a smile and Kendall flips him off, not even looking away from the mirror, "That's rude."

"Not really." Kendall flashes him another grin, "Not when I don't mean it."

"I don't think that's how that works." Logan, always a skeptic, bites back a smile. Kendall turns the bathroom lights off and sticks his tongue out at Logan, which is way sexier than it should be.

"Have you ever flipped anyone off?"

"Uh, no?"

"Then you wouldn't know, would you?" Kendall says victoriously and flops back on the bed, groaning, "Mom's going to be pissed. And Jo's going to freak out."

"Joe?" Logan repeats the name, wondering if it's a brother or stepfather. Kendall stares at the ceiling, poking his nose and wincing.

"My girlfriend."

Logan can feel his stomach sinking all the way down to his toes at the words, even though he never even had a chance with Kendall in the first place. It was silly of him to think, even subconsciously, that something would happen between them.

"O-oh."

"Yeah, I don't look like a guy with a girlfriend, do I?" Kendall jokes as a fiery woman bursts through the door and heads straight for Kendall, missing Logan by inches. She grabs Kendall's shoulders and shakes, though she's yelling about how worried she was and how much she loves him and how sorry she is that it happened.

"I'll just go." Logan speaks above the woman and she pauses, turning to look at him and smiling.

"Thank you for taking care of my son."

"No problem." Logan heads to the door, pausing with his hand on the knob to listen as the frantic babbling continues and Kendall, cheeky as ever, tells his mom that "Logan is a certified doctor."

Logan can't help but smile.


	2. i like your eyes, just not on me

**A/N:**

**I don't own anything (by the way)**

**Here's the next chapter. **

* * *

Logan gets out of bed late the next morning due to an alarming amount of tossing and turning the night before. He barely has time to grab some money from his dad's wallet for a vending machine breakfast before he has to rush out the door and hop on his bike, hair a mess and clothes a bit mismatched. He looks a bit like a mad scientist, which is what a few people call him, especially when he oversleeps and comes to school looking...like a mad scientist.

Despite his valiantly going without brushing his hair, he doesn't manage to make it before the late bell, and he still has to stop and but breakfast. As he's pushing the first quarter into the slot, the rest of the change slips out of his hand and spills onto the tile, making him swear and forcing him onto his knees as he fumbles to pick it up. He thanks whatever divine force is watching that the hallway is empty, knowing it would be impossible to get the change back with a crowd of people tripping over and shoving past him.

"Where the hell?" Logan scans the floor for his last quarter, spotting it a few machines away. Sighing he crawls over to it, wondering how idiotic he looks on the security camera, and picks it up, "Gotcha."

It's then that he hears footsteps and a few voices, male voices, coming closer. In a moment of irrational panic he dives in-between two of the machines (they're spaced far apart and he's always been skinny) and tries not to feel too bad about the fact that he's hiding from freaking _teenagers_. And not even harmful ones at that; they're probably just going to the bathroom or something. Still, they're way too close for crawling back out into the open to be an option, so he's left to feel like an idiot and pray that they don't see him hiding in the snack machines. As if he needs _another _reason for people to tease him.

"Come on, we're gonna be late."

Logan cocks his head at the voice and scoots closer to the edge, watching as three pairs of sneakers come into view. One pair of beat up, gray converse, one pair of black Adidas, and one pair of pristine white Sperry's. Holding his breath he moves even closer and risks leaning forward, just enough to see the legs and torsos and faces of the three people who managed to chase him into a dusty, tight space.

"Shit!"

The curse is out of his mouth before he can stop it and the shoes (and their respective owners) pause. One of them, tall and lanky, but handsome, looks around bemusedly, "Did you hear something?"

"Yeah." Another one, dark haired and short, looks around as well. He doesn't seem concerned though, merely shrugs and grins at his taller friend, "Someone's mad."

"It sounded like it was coming from the vending machines." Kendall glances at the rows of machines and Logan moves even further into the shadows, trying not to move or breathe. His heart beats faster at the thought of Kendall finding him like this, cowering in the corner like a caged animal, and he can feel his face heating up at the thought. He has no real way of explaining his irrational need to hide, because all that's running through his mind is the fact that Kendall goes to his school.

How could Kendall possibly go to his school?

It makes sense, since Kendall lives in the same town and it's the only school for a while, but Logan can't help but wonder how he could have gone so long without noting the handsome teen's existence. Surely, with Kendall's looks and charm, it shouldn't have taken a _hospital visit _for him to come to Logan's attention.

Of course, he has more pressing concerns right now, such as the impending search and seizure of his dignity, which could possibly kill him from mortification alone.

"The vending machines?" The tall one wrinkles his nose and looks offended at the idea, "It's dirty down there."

"Whatever." Kendall shrugs, "We're already late."

Logan breathes a sigh of relief as they disappear and he's allowed to crawl back out into the open, scowling at the dirt and grime on the knees of his jeans. When he rubs it off, it burrows even deeper into the fabric, and now he looks dirty as well as unkempt. He looks like a mad scientist with a bunch of bodies buried in his backyard, thanks to the dirt on his jeans. And, to top it all off, he's really late to class now.

"Shit." He swears again and shoves the rest of the change into the machine, pressing buttons blindly and grabbing the snack with little thought as to what it is or how it will taste. His first class isn't too far, but the lecture's already started when he reaches the door, and he has to knock because the door's locked. There's a look of utter disappointment on Mrs. Morris' face when she pulls the door open, gray hair pulled back into a bun as usual, and Logan tries his best to look repentant, even as he wishes she would just give him a break.

"You're late."

"Yeah, I overslept."

"Late night?"

"At the hospital." Logan responds coldly, "I was helping my dad."

Mrs. Morris' clucks softly and waves a hand towards the rows of desks and Logan's empty seat, shaking her head at the excuse and mumbling about teens being teens and not free labor. It makes Logan angry because his dad isn't using him for free labor, in fact he was against Logan's taking on longer shifts at the hospital for the very reason Mrs. Morris is clucking about. If anything, he wishes she would be a little impressed, since he's a sixteen year old kid living a med student's dream.

"Mad scientist." Someone snorts when Logan slips past and he rolls his eyes, because it's a stupid nickname and he's too tired to deal with it. At least no one tries to trip him like jocks do in the movies, because unlike the movies there are jocks in the AP English class. While the stereotype holds mostly true, not all of them have suffer from a lack of intelligence due to too many head to head collisions and a lack of interest in anything but sports.

"Late night at the hospital? What was he doing; dissecting dead bodies?"

Logan resists the urge to remind them that morgues at hospitals aren't all that easy to get into and, more importantly, not exactly pleasant, but Mrs. Morris has restarted her lecture and his seat is within reach. Falling into it he drops his bag on the ground by his feet and allows himself to get lost in the task of taking notes on ridiculously obvious things while the jocks and their followers speculate about whether he kills the people or lets someone else do it for him instead. It's not exactly bullying, just teenagers being teenagers, it's just really annoying.

Mrs. Morris begins asking questions (choosing her victims based on who was paying the least amount of attention), so the annoying topic is dropped pretty quickly as the ringleaders scramble to get together the proper information with no clue where to begin. Logan smirks at their panic and waits for Mrs. Morris to pick them off, which he's sure she will. He can almost forgive her judgmental clucking.

"Now, Bryan, how does Hester-"

The rest of the class period is full of pointed questions and jocks fumbling for something remotely intelligent to say. Most of them get only as far as the first word before they crumble and allow Mrs. Morris to pin them with a disappointed look and move on to her next victim. When Logan's turn finally comes he answers the questions shortly and correctly, earning an approving nod from Mrs. Morris and an all too familiar grumbling from the rest of the class.

When the bell rings he hits the hallway before anyone else and everywhere he looks he sees Kendall, even though he's fairly certain he doesn't see Kendall once the whole way to his second class. Now that he's away from the nuisance that is Bryan and his friends he can think about Kendall and how bad it is that they go to the same school and how he could have possibly missed it. Kendall a surprising effect on him and he can't believe he's never noticed the blonde. Of course, if they don't have the same classes, there are few chances of them actually getting close enough to see each other.

If anything is certain, it's the fact that Kendall isn't going to be in any of Logan's classes. At least, he's not in his first or second, and Logan doubts Kendall is in his third or fourth (going by the logic that someone so handsome would have caught Logan's attention; gay or no).

"I have your tests here."

The class groans as Mr. Smith closes the door and places a hand, fingers spread, on top of a thick stack of papers on his desk. He smiles and says something about how "most everyone" did well and Logan feels pretty confident that he made an A. A few of the surrounding people don't look so sure of themselves, and one girl makes loud comments about how she left the last ten questions blank. Her friends look sympathetic and attempt to placate her with promises that there were a lot of questions, so maybe those last ten won't do her much harm.

It's bullshit and everyone knows it, but no one bothers to say it out loud.

"Here you go." Mr. Smith heads around the room, passing out papers with smiles and frowns respectfully, telling people they did good or they could do better as needed. When he gets to Logan he pats him on the back and proclaims, quite happily, that Logan got the only perfect score. Logan can feel his cheeks heating up as everyone turns to look at him, a few of them glowering. He can only assume that they made far from a perfect score, or else they almost made a perfect score and can't believe someone beat them.

"You can do better."

After History Logan has Science, which is a few halls down. He scans the crowd for Kendall, ducking at the sight of blonde hair and inspecting people's shoes. At one point, he spies a pair of beat up Converse coming towards him and nearly runs the other way, until he realizes that the legs are way too feminine.

Not wanting to risk another illogical (and completely logical) panic attack, Logan practically runs to his third period and all but crashes into his desk. The few people that are already in the room laugh at his display and he feels his cheeks heat up, tapping his fingers against the top of the desk to keep from looking anyone in the eye. When an appropriate amount of time passes he glances back up and nearly falls out of his desk because right there, a mere two desks away, is Kendall's brown haired friend. He's talking somewhat bored-ly to a pretty blonde girl and doesn't seem to care about anything but his nails. The girl, for her part, is listening closely, even though she could probably get up and walk away without the brown haired guy even bothering to look up.

"Someone in the vending machines?" Logan catches a part of their conversation and looks down automatically, praying that they won't look up and see him, though they have no way to know it was him.

"Yeah." The guy answers calmly, "Or, someone around the vending machines."

"Swearing?"

"He said 'shit'."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Maybe he was stuck?"

"In what?"

"The vending machine...?" The guy trails off and the girl sighs, shaking her hair back. Logan drops his gaze again as she glances around the room at the filling desks and the blank walls. The conversation, apparently, is over, because she doesn't ask anymore questions and he doesn't continue the story. Instead, the class begins, with a worksheet five pages long ready for them to complete. The class is quick to pull their desks into circles and pairs, the guy and the girl doing nothing but moving a bit closer together. Logan remains in his corner, packet ridiculously easy and ridiculously long in front of him. He flips through it and runs a hand through his already disheveled hair, mentally answering every question he can before deciding he'll need his book.

"Hey, nerd!"

"Do you mean me?" Logan glances up from his paper as the whole class turns to look at him and one of the most annoying people in the whole Junior class smirks at him.

"What's the answer to number five?"

"I have no idea." Logan studies the question and writes the answer neatly on the blank space, "Look in your book."

"That's too hard." The guy complains, but doesn't bother Logan again. He can feel someone's eyes on him, lingering as if they expect something else, and he looks up to meet the guy's gaze. He smiles uncertainly and the guy rolls his eyes, tilting a head slightly at the group that bothered Logan. When Logan's smile grows he grins and goes back to his packet, leaving Logan with his own smile. It's nice to know that not everyone's an asshole.

It's not like Logan doesn't realize there are good people in the world, he's not that much of a cynic, it's just that he doesn't associate with enough people to find the nice ones.

At lunch, Logan takes his science book to use as a sort of cover, in case Kendall happens to have the same lunch. He also takes his packet, in case Kendall doesn't have the same lunch and he just looks stupid. It's good to have something to do at lunch, since none of the people he tentatively considers friends have the same lunch period as him. They always talk about science and debate teams, but it's better than sitting alone.

He takes a table in the corner and scans the whole cafeteria before he hits the line, not seeing any sign of Kendall or his friends. He doesn't even see the brown haired guy and the girl, who seem to have vanished into thin air as soon as they left the class. Logan isn't sure if he likes not seeing Kendall at lunch, or if he's in far enough that he regrets not seeing Kendall at lunch. It doesn't really matter, he decides, because he's not going to spend his whole lunch period thinking about a guy he met _once_. He's going to work on his packet, possibly finish his packet, and forget all about Kendall and his girlfriend.

It's easy enough once he gets started, because school is something he's used to. The cafeteria and the people and the food that isn't really food don't matter as much as the answers and finding the right ones; be they in his brain or in the thick book. He loses himself in the process, meditative and hypnotic, blocking out everything until something manages to break through his wall of concentration.

"See you around, Dr. Logan."

Logan doesn't process the words or the voice until it's too late and Kendall, followed by the brown haired guy and the girl, is disappearing through the double doors of the cafeteria.

The packet goes forgotten.


	3. he's not that into sports, okay

**A/N:**

**The titles of the chapters are a kind of weird, anti-joke, joke between me and my sister. **

**Anyway.**

* * *

Logan could practically _hear _the smirk in the words, even though he didn't look up in time to see it. It still has the power to stop every single, rational thought in his brain from making any kind of dent in the continuous, all consuming rant of "Oh my God" running through his mind.

This rant of epic proportions interferes with his abilities to speak, move, and rationalize. He trips ten times on the way back to science and forgets every single useful fact he's ever read, heard, or otherwise come across in his life. He gets his packet finished (barely) and isn't even sure if any of his answers make sense.

Because, holy shit, Kendall knew it was him.

He only has one more class period to get through and his last class of the day is his elective; art. They're working on drawing partners and, by some stroke of luck, Logan's partner is someone with a better social status than his own. If Kendall is a sports person, which Logan is still highly convinced of, he'll have some sort of social standing easily noted and remembered by other people with some sort of social standing.

Thankfully, by the time he reaches his seat and begins to draw Michael, he's functioning on a mostly respectable level. Instead of tripping all over himself, he's able to bring up the topic of sports and Michael's friends casually enough, though it's a long time before he can mention Kendall without choking, "Do you know Kendall?"

"Kendall who?"

"I don't know his last name." Logan admits, swearing as his hand jerks and the line goes everywhere. His eraser is a bit bitten down and doesn't do much when it comes to actually erasing, so he's left with a huge smudge by Michael's otherwise ok nose. Michael laughs at Logan's swear and furrows his brows.

"I only know Kendall Knight. We call him 'Eyebrows' on the hockey team."

Logan laughs, remembering Kendall's eyebrows, and mentally high-fives himself for being right about the sports, "He plays hockey?" To be honest, he'd forgotten that Michael was on the hockey team, though not on purpose. Logan's never been that into sports, mostly because he's never been able to play them himself.

"Yeah, dude. He's, like, the best player on the team." Michael looks impressed at the thought, "I don't know what we'd do without him."

"Find other players that are just as good."

"Yeah, right." Michael snorts and Logan rolls his eyes, "Sorry."

"If you would stop making faces I could finish this picture."

"Sorry, man." Michael apologizes again, but the smirk on his face has Logan flipping him off while the teacher's back is turned. Michael laughs as Logan adds the finishing touches to his picture, turning it around so Michael can see. It's not the best, but Michael looks impressed enough, and then they're switching places so Logan can have _his _picture drawn. Michael squints and holds his hands up like he's mentally putting a frame around Logan's face, laughing at Logan's bored expression, "Why?"

"What?" Logan asks and it's Michael's turn to roll his eyes as he puts pencil to paper and begins sketching.

"Why are you interested in Kendall?"

"I saw him at the hospital." Logan answers shortly and Michael glances up from his drawing, looking interested.

"Oh yeah, he said something about getting jumped."

"Does he know who did it?"

"Just some druggies." Michael shrugs and glares at Logan when he wiggles, "Stop moving."

"I can't help it." Logan whines, "These seats are uncomfortable."

"That sounds like a personal problem."

"Good one, Mikey." Logan scoffs and earns a raised middle finger from the other teen. This is how art class usually goes, one of them flipping off the other until, finally, they call a truce or (more often) someone gets their fingers taped together by the teacher. Logan's the reigning champion of the raised finger, since Michael almost always gets caught, and Logan's only been caught a few times since the beginning of the semester. It's one of the reasons Michael seems to like Logan so much; his impressive ability to flip people off on the sly.

"So, you saw Kendall at the hospital?" Michael resumes the conversation after a moment of silence and Logan nods, which gets him an annoyed look. He sticks his tongue out in return, but the teacher clears her throat from a few tables over and he's forced to resume a semi-normal pose.

"Yeah, I checked him out and stuff."

"You checked him out?" Michael quirks a brow and Logan's face flushes at the implication.

"I inspected his bruises and alarmingly swollen nose." He corrects. Michael smiles and erases furiously, wincing at something on the page, "What?" Logan cranes his neck to see just what caused Michael's grimace and the other teen covers the paper with his arm. At Logan's yelp of protest and pleas to just let him see the picture, he shakes his head.

"No, no. Not until it's finished."

"Don't make me look like an alien."

"Are you going to be putting this on your fridge, Loges?" Michael protests and Logan pauses. It's a logical argument, since Logan and Michael will be the only ones seeing the picture, but Logan would still feel better if he looked like a _human_.

"No, but still."

"Calm down, I'm a fairly decent artist."

"You can't even draw a circle!"

"Have a little faith, jeez. You know what I'm lacking?"

"Talent?"

"Freedom. I could draw a goddamn circle if I _wanted _to draw a goddamn circle."

"Well...do you _want _to draw me?" Logan tries and Michael smirks.

"Nope."

"Then don't tell me to calm down!"

"So, anyway-" Michael pointedly changes the subject, "His nose isn't broken?"

"Not that I saw."

"He says it hurts pretty bad. And it looks really swollen."

"Well, sometimes it takes a while for a broken nose to...appear broken." Logan moves swiftly into doctor mode, "Has he gone to the doctor?"

"I thought you were the doctor?"

"Not quite." Logan sighs, "If he thinks it's broken he needs to see someone."

"Man, if he sees a doctor and it turns out broken there's no way he'll be playing in the upcoming game." Michael smiles at some thought and huffs out a laugh, "Or, for that matter, if he doesn't pull his grades up."

"There's a game coming up?"

"Oh, come on, Logan!" Michael abandons the drawing for a moment, choosing to stare at Logan, "You had to know there was a game coming up!"

"What? Why should I?" Logan defends himself, "I don't exactly _care_."

"It's all anyone talks about!" Michael continues, disregarding Logan's explanation, "Everyone knows about the game!" He throws up his hands and sends his pencil flying, "It's against our rival team!"

"...We have a rival team?" Logan scrunches his nose, "Seriously?"

"Keep making that face and you'll be stuck like that." Michael goes to retrieve his pencil, apologizing to the two giggling girls who had to dodge it with a charming smile and a wink that Logan doesn't miss. He doesn't say anything about it when Michael gets back, though, because he's a lot more interested in the hockey game and Kendall.

"His grades aren't good?"

"What?"

"Kendall's." Logan huffs. Michael glances up at him and shrugs, erasing something and blowing the eraser shavings onto the floor. Michael seems completely unconcerned by Logan's question, which is really ignoring, because Logan kind of really wants to know the answer. Now that he's learning more about Kendall, he can't _stop _learning about Kendall. It's like Facebook stalking only...more interesting.

"I don't know. I only have a few classes with him, but he just doesn't give a damn. You know?"

"No, I really don't."

"Well, I mean, do you know people like that." Michael amends and Logan bites his lip, thinking through all the people he knows. There are a few guys in his classes who don't seem to care, but you have to care at least a little to be in AP classes. Not caring is for the people in regular classes, people who either don't have the motivation or don't have the time to go all out in their classes. Logan knows some people who are in regular classes because they have jobs that take a lot out of them, but he doesn't know any who just don't care enough to try.

"No, I can't say I do."

"Well, people like him are really annoying, but he's a nice guy. He's friendly and kind of funny and sarcastic, but not in a bad way. And he doesn't give a damn about his classes."

"Do you give a damn?" Logan asks as seriously as possible and Michael looks up at him, face straight, but a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"Of course I do."

"But only because of hockey?"

"I can't believe you didn't know there was a game coming up."

"I thought we were past that!"

"Logan, I know you're all..." Michael trails off and thinks for a moment, "Absorbed in your world."

"Are you calling me self-absorbed?" Logan actually feels a bit hurt by the comment, since he hardly considers himself self-absorbed, but Michael's exasperated look is quick to ease his mind. Clearly, this is a case of Michael's inability to properly communicate what he means.

"No, Logan. You're all about the end of the tunnel. I guess."

"The end of the tunnel?"

"Yeah, like... what happens next. Everyone's watching the third domino fall but you're all the way at the end looking for the final pattern, ya know?"

"I don't think I understand." Logan admits and Michael shrugs as the bell rings, throwing his sketchpad in his bag. Logan watches him heft the book bag onto his shoulders and waves back halfheartedly, deep in thought. Michael's explanation, instead of clearing things up, has only made things worse. Aside from that, he also has Kendall and his possibly broken nose on his mind, since any mistake is on him. He knows that broken noses are tricky to diagnose, but he still feels guilty about the mistake. If Kendall misses the apparently upcoming game, it'll be his fault (kind of).

This new problem weighs on his mind all the way to the hospital and all the way through his shift, causing him to make rookie mistakes the whole time. Eventually, his dad just gives him the opportunity to head home and get some sleep, which Logan accepts with the idea of searching Kendall Knight in his yearbook.

Logan hasn't looked at his yearbook _once _since he got it last year.

Naturally, the thing is hard to find. Even with Logan's room in the impeccable condition it is, the damn thing manages to elude capture for a good ten minutes. It takes a careful search of every bookshelf in the closet (ok, maybe in the whole house) before he spots it lying in a corner. It looks sad with it's brand new cover and lack of inscriptions. Logan blows off a bit of dust (which is also kind of depressing) and figures the best place to start is clubs and sports. Kendall's a hockey player and he's right smack in the middle of the picture, smiling in a way that makes Logan's heart beat faster.

Kendall's two friends from the vending machine fiasco are on the team as well, and Logan finds out that they're named James (the tall one) and Carlos (the dark haired one). They flank Kendall in the picture, like body guards, or maybe like they're just really close.

Finding Kendall in the single shots is harder than Logan thinks it should be, since they managed to get him out of place. He's in the middle of the S's, smiling the same smile from the hockey picture. He doesn't even look like he's out of place, probably because he didn't know he would be when they were taking the picture.

"Kendall Knight." Logan tries the name and likes it, though he closes the yearbook and shoves it back on the lonely shelf it came from, shaking his head at his own ridiculousness. He's got a math test to study for and, more importantly, a medical book to read. His dad recommended it, so it's sure to be useful and possibly interesting.

"Kendall Knight." In the middle of carrying the X over and dividing the Y.

"Kendall Knight." He should be reading cardiovascular, but somehow Kendall's name slips out instead.

"Kendall Knight." Around a mouthful of pizza, so it comes out garbled. Still, he knows what he meant, and he likes the name more and more with each repetition. It's a good name, not really a name you hear often, unlike Logan. If Logan made a list of all the times he's met someone else named Logan, he'd take up at least two sides of a sheet of college rule notebook paper. And for Logan, that's too many.

Doctors, other classmates, people at the grocery store; they all have the name Logan. But Kendall...there's only _one _Kendall in Logan's life.

"Kendall Knight." Said to his ceiling as he lies in bed, sleep playing at the corners of his mind.

Yeah, he really likes the name Kendall Knight.


	4. we're fourth cousins twice removed

Logan maybe goes to the hockey game and, apparently, it _is _a big deal.

It's the Saturday after his talk with Michael and he watches all of ten minutes of the game before he gets confused and has to leave because his dad is calling him. When he gets out into the parking lot he puts his phone to his ear, "Yeah?"

"You're supposed to be at the hospital." His dad doesn't sound angry, just disappointed, and Logan's stomach sinks. He'd completely forgotten about his shift.

"Oh, yeah." He answers weakly, "I went to a hockey game."

"Hockey?" His dad sounds confused, "What the hell is hockey?"

"It's a sport, Dad." Logan reminds him, "You know what hockey is."

"I need you here in ten minutes." His dad orders and then hangs up the phone, leaving Logan with a gnawing guilt and the realization that he's just _missed a shift _for a _hockey game_. He's never missed a shift before, not once, since his dad took him on as an assistant of sorts and gave him the chance of a life time. Logan isn't dumb, he knows his dad pulled a lot of strings to get him that position, and now he's blowing off shifts for sports he doesn't even understand.

Needless to say he makes it to the hospital in ten minutes and treads lightly for the rest of the day. He doesn't once mention the game to his dad who seems more somber than usual and, when dinner rolls around, they sit silently at their dining room table. He wants to apologize, he really does, but something tells him to just forget it. If it were a real problem, his dad would bring it up.

On Sunday, his dad spends all day at the hospital and Logan does extra credit work just for the hell of it. He thinks about the hockey game, Kendall, rivalries, and the hospital. His work takes less time than he expected so he cleans up around the house and goes for a walk around the neighborhood, which results in his stopping by the diner Kendall's mom works at. The whole of the hockey team is there, for some odd reason, talking about yesterday's game in loud voices.

"Dr. Mitchell."

Logan freezes at the sudden silence and the name, _his _name, issuing from the table. He recognizes the voice and turns sheepishly, turning red from the sudden amount of attention on him. He's not used to being stared at, "Hi?"

"What are you doing here?" Kendall demands and Logan scrambles for a lie.

"I'm waiting for my dad." He speaks too fast and pauses, "He's at the hospital. Has been all day. I wanted to eat with him and this place is close." He glances at his phone, as if checking for messages and shrugs, "I don't think he'll make it though."

"That sucks." Kendall seems genuinely sympathetic and Logan shrugs.

"I mean, yeah, but today's been pretty bad." At a questioning look from Kendall he hurries to explain, "There was a car wreck or something." He knows this from his dad's text a few hours ago saying he would be out late and not to wait up. Logan's used to texts like that, because he gets them all the time. He's beyond being bothered by it.

"The one on the highway?" Kendall asks and Logan nods, when Kendall winces he quirks an eyebrow.

"Something wrong?"

"That was a bad one, wasn't it?" Kendall winces at the thought and Logan shrugs, "I mean, wasn't there someone smeared all over the highway?"

Every single hockey player shudders at the thought, but Logan just nods again, "Yeah, some woman."

"Doesn't that bother you?" James asks, grimacing, 'Blood and stuff?"

"No." Logan answers simply, "Not really."

"It's so gross." Kendall complains, "You didn't even flinch when you saw my face, though." He adds.

"He's crazy. He dissects dead bodies." Someone laughs and Logan rolls his eyes. Seriously, they're back on this? Kendall frowns at the offender, but Logan just shakes his head and slides out of his seat.

"My dad's not coming." He responds to Kendall's questioning look, "I'd prefer to eat at home."

"No, wait!"

"Sorry." Logan smiles slightly. Kendall frowns back, but there's nothing Logan can do. As much as he wants to stay, he doesn't want to be subjected to the jokes and teasing usually reserved for school.

As he pushes through the door he can hear Kendall complaining loudly about how they scared him away and he smiles. He wants to tell Kendall that he's used to it and that he's not scared, but to go back would look weird, so he continues on his way home and eats leftover pizza.

He doesn't wait up for his dad and, the next morning, he finds and note and some cash for a vending machine breakfast on the counter.

"Great." He mutters, but can be too bothered because of his conversation with Kendall on Sunday. The few words they exchanged, and more so the ones he heard when he was leaving, have carried over to what should be an awful Monday. He's got three tests and a book report due, as well as an extra long shift at the hospital to make up for his mishap on Saturday. All in all, it's promising to be an exhausting day.

Thankfully, the machines work this time, and he doesn't end up on the floor. Subsequently, he arrives to class on time and presents his book report with only a few comments. Some of the hockey players in his class laugh when he walks by, possibly recalling Sunday, but maybe Kendall's words had an effect on them, because none of them make any comments about Logan's attire or after school activities. He only hears the name "Mad Scientist" once.

Oddly enough, some of them call him Dr. Mitchell, which he definitely prefers.

In second he finds the test to be easier than he expected, meaning he over studied, but that doesn't bother him much. In third, the test is cancelled. Dr. Harris doesn't give an explanation, just continues on with her lesson as if they're all supposed to know what's happening. Logan listens as people whisper speculations to each other, most of them centering around Dr. Harris' having found herself a boyfriend. It's a long running excuse that Dr. Harris, who works her students to the bone, does it because she's lonely and wants her students to be as miserable as her.

At lunch, there's a booth in the cafeteria. A rather _large_ booth, with a bored looking girl running it. She doesn't even look up from her book when Logan approaches, just holds up a finger and turns the page, "Can I help you?"

"Yeah, what is this?"

The girl sighs and sets book, Of Mice and Men, on the table, "A booth."

"For what?" Logan presses.

The look she gives him is murderous, "A tutoring program."

"I don't need a tutor." Logan prepares to go back to his seat but the girl stops him.

"You could _be _a tutor."

"I could?" Logan pauses, interested, "What do I have to do?"

"Well, sign here," The girl produces a clipboard and pen, "And pledge your soul to Coach Davis."

"Wait, Coach Davis?" Logan demands, dropping the clipboard back on the table, "Why is he running a tutoring program?"

Coach Davis is the hockey coach, but he has his hands in every sports program at the school. His knowledge goes beyond just hockey, but not much farther than that. The sports kids all answer to Coach Davis, but the kids with any sort of intelligence prefer to pledge their allegiances elsewhere. It's not that he's a bad person, just that he prefers jocks with muscle to nerds with brain power. Logan remembers, vividly, the hellish semester he spent in the gym ninth grade year.

"Some of the players are falling behind in their studies. Coach Davis started this to bring his best players back up. He can't afford to lose them, especially not after Saturday's win."

"That's-"

"Don't say good, because it's not." The girl cuts him off bitterly, "Coach Davis doesn't want _progress_."

"What does he want?" Logan questions and she frowns.

"The illusion of progress."

"What?"

"Say you sign up to tutor; you'll be given three or four hours a week to pretend to help some dumb jock in calculus or whatever. But, they're not actually going to learn anything. They're as dumb as rocks, they'll just pretend like they care about their studies and the principal will let them play sports because of the pressure the parents will put on him." The girls sounds incensed, which makes Logan wonder why she's running the booth in the first place, "I'm getting out of gym for this." She snaps, apparently reading Logan's expression, and he holds up his hands like he's surrendering.

"I get it. I would have done anything to get out of gym."

"It's useless." The girl complains, "This is much better. I get to read."

"Yeah." Logan shrugs, "Well, thanks."

"Wait!" Once again he's stopped from leaving, "Aren't you going to sign up?"

"Not if it's just some dumb ploy."

"You get to pick your student!" The girl pulls a sheet of paper off the clipboard and hands it to him, "See!" The sheet is a list of names, most of which Logan vaguely recognizes. He reads about half of the list before he catches sight of one name that has his heart speeding up and his face flushing.

"Kendall Knight is on this?"

"Yeah." The girl sighs dreamily, "Better hurry, though. Everyone thinks he's hot."

"I don't think he's hot." Logan hurries to defend himself and the girl smirks, holding out a hand for the list, "We're fourth cousins twice removed!" Logan lies when her expression doesn't change and she shrugs.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"You want him?"

Logan flushes at the double meaning, "I'll tutor him, yeah."

"Good, he's the star player. Coach Davis might love you." She holds out the clipboard, "Sign your name and who you want to tutor." Logan does as she asks, scribbling quickly. The girl glances over the information before pulling another sheet from the back of the clipboard and handing it to him, "That's information. It's make your own schedule, so you'll have to talk with Kendall about your first session."

"Does he know he's on the list?"

"He'll find out." The girl picks her book up and Logan knows he's supposed to leave, but he still has a lot of questions. When he doesn't immediately leave the girl rolls her eyes, "There's contact information on the sheet. Tell him we picked or something."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"Right." The girl states mockingly, "He _is _your cousin after all."

"Whatever." Logan grumbles, "Thanks, I guess."

"No problem." She's already absorbed in her book.

Logan heads back to his table, glancing over at Kendall's as he walks. It's empty, since Kendall and his friends usually finish lunch early and go to do god knows what. Most of the time, James is late to science. Logan always wonders what they do, but never has the energy to try and find out. In a stroke of (somewhat stupid) curiosity, he decides that this time he does. Looking around quickly he ducks out into the hall and glances to the left and right.

"Come on, let's go." He hears Kendall's voice coming from the right and considers. If he goes, he could get caught, but this is his chance to find out where they run off to everyday. Is he really going to miss it?

"Let's go!" Kendall speaks again, farther away, and Logan clutches the information sheet. A full minute passes by, Kendall getting farther and farther away, before he heads back into the cafeteria.

Some chances are meant to be missed, anyway.


End file.
